


tingly

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 08:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10567125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Doyoung isn't entirely sure what ASMR is, but he's determined to pander to Taeyong's interest in it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> whooooaaaa!!! i write nct fic now??? not quite yet, i don't think... hahaha
> 
> i am aware this drabble is super rough but please bear with me! it's hard for me to get a ship's dynamic right on the first try so i like to write something non-committal before i actually dive into something. i was writing a longer oneshot dotae but i think it was a little too ambitious to start with! :((( it will be written, but i want it to be good. i hope to post something longer and nicer soon <3
> 
> i talked about this concept with kristine (cycloids on ao3) and i could get sappy about how she's my closest and (practically) only nct friend and she puts up with my babbling about johnny etc etc etc BUT i will save the sappiness for when i post the aforementioned Longer and Nicer fic. thank you kristine ily <3
> 
> nonetheless, i hope you enjoy! i'm sort of nervous to post in a fandom for the first time skfjfskh it is 4am i am a mess!

He feels like he’s waiting on the bed in his best lingerie, or something. It’s nerve wracking. Maybe he’d at least have a sliver of confidence if he was dressed in lace and posing sexily—he feels a little stupid sat cross-legged against the headboard in his fuzzy pajama pants, twiddling his thumbs to the sound of Taeyong gargling mouthwash in the other room.

He’s not entirely sure when Taeyong started listening to those weird whispering roleplay videos to go to sleep, but he’s seen how well he sleeps having fallen asleep to them. A few hours into combing through his YouTube history, Doyoung has found that, one, he doesn’t experience “head tingles” at the sound of tapping and brushing, and that two, he doesn’t really understand any of it at all. If it makes Taeyong happy, that’s fine, but he could’ve asked for a scalp massage instead of searching for an hour-long scalp massage roleplay. With 3D sound. Doyoung is most certainly not intimidated by their ability to relax Taeyong, he just wants to see if it’s the same in person, is all.

The feeling of a middle-aged woman wanting to spice up her marriage returns when Taeyong freezes in the doorway to see his boyfriend sat purposefully in a throne of pillows, candles lit and lights off. Judging by the look on his face, he can tell the mood isn’t for sex—that’s a good thing. The fluffy purple toe socks might’ve been it.

Doyoung clears his throat. “Taeyong.” And his voice cracks anyway, damn it. “Can I try something?”

“Uh, sure.” Taeyong toes towards the bed skeptically, letting Doyoung guide him by the wrist to sit between his legs. “What are you—”

“Shh.” Doyoung tugs him closer, letting his arms drape around his waist before he takes a breath to explain himself. "I'm—" He hushes himself to a whisper, low and leaning into Taeyong's ear, warm breath tickling the shell. "Is it okay if I touch your hair?"

Taeyong swallows before laughing breathily, the slightest twinge of uneasiness in his tone. "What's this for?"

"You know. The ASMR thing..." Doyoung runs his fingertips along Taeyong's thighs now, light and rhythmic and sweet. He rests his chin on his shoulder, a heavy and warm gesture in comparison to his fingers. Taeyong squirms against his chest.

"Ah." The whispering is a little awkward. Doyoung rests a hand on the side of Taeyong's head where his hairline starts.

"Is your head tingly?" A strange question out of context, but Taeyong nods, shoulders tensing at the breathiness of his voice. This is precisely the kind of encouragement Doyoung needed to continue.

Taeyong slumps against him. There's this relinquishing sigh that endears Doyoung to the point of ducking his head into Taeyong's nape, planting small kisses there while he rubs his shoulders gently. Taeyong leans into it all, now limp and pliable in Doyoung's arms. "Touch my hair?" He asks, possibly just to prompt more whispering from Doyoung.

And whisper Doyoung does. "We're getting to that."

He starts by using his palms to push back the front of his hair, coaxing his head to lay back against Doyoung's shoulder. Taeyong's hair is soft and there's a hint of dampness at the root from when he showered. He whispers to Taeyong about nothing, so close to his ear that his lips graze the lobe, but he seems to be enjoying it—Taeyong sort of rolls his shoulders with each sigh and particularly gentle drag of his fingers across his scalp. He rubs small circles with the pads of his fingers, ending each pass over his head his thumbs firmly pressing into the tense parts of his neck. Even Doyoung feels relaxed at the scratchy sound of his hair being combed through, the pads of his fingers nearly going numb after a while—he loses track of time with Taeyong between his legs, the weight of his body steady and comforting against his.

It doesn’t feel as ridiculous as it did initially. Maybe it’s because Taeyong understands any apprehension Doyoung has and doesn’t give him a hard time for it, or because Taeyong just really loves being spoken to and touched so softly. Pajamas suddenly seem vastly superior to any other clothing, including no clothing—and why do they have lamps, anyway? The candles Doyoung lit flicker faintly and smell of jasmine and patchouli. He’s almost sad when he has to remove his hands from Taeyong’s hair, patting it into place and guiding his half-asleep body under the covers before extinguishing the candles.

That doesn’t last for long, though. Doyoung wiggles his toes with a contented smile when he rests his head on Taeyong’s chest—he’d mustered up enough energy to thread his fingers into Doyoung’s hair, keeping them there and succumbing to sleep.

Contented smiles aside, though, Doyoung thinks his head might’ve tingled.


End file.
